Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Malaysia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
Goldenarms,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun City Girls,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
Peter & Gordon,
Magazine,
Altered Images,
Zapp,
Flipper,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dave Gahan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Easy Going,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Association,
The Moody Blues,
Excepter,
Nick Fraelich,
Siglo XX,
World's Most,
AZ,
Scan 7,
Marc Almond,
Jerry's Kids,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
The Young Rascals,
Oneida,
Eli Mardock,
the Sonics,
Sparks,
Soul II Soul,
Motorama,
K-Klass,
a-ha,
Camberwell Now,
Bob Dylan,
Jacques Brel,
Con Funk Shun,
Tubeway Army,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Moleskins,
Procol Harum,
The Durutti Column,
The Fuzztones,
Ken Boothe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultravox,
Lower 48,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Smog,
Infiniti,
Cheater Slicks,
Massinfluence,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dave Clark Five,
Absolute Body Control,
D'Angelo,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.